


Best Kind

by Port



Category: Without a Trace
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-22
Updated: 2006-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-05 08:10:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3112463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Port/pseuds/Port
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>About their sex life: it was great. Danny had no serious complaints. No complaints at all, really. He did wonder about one thing, but that wasn't complaining. Because he never mentioned it to Martin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Kind

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Smilla for challenging me, and then for being a beta.

Martin and Danny had a great sex life. For two guys who saw each other at work all day, they spent an impressive number of off-hours together: in bed, on the couch, in the back of Danny's car, and under the hot spray of both their showers. 

It was anybody's guess whose apartment they'd wind up at on a given night, and what they'd do there.

Well, of course they'd make love, but that's a general term, encompassing a spectrum of sexual activity that would put a rainbow to shame.

Martin and Danny had a great sex life. They did quite a few things with each other, from making out while waiting for dinner to cook, to fucking on Saturday mornings. No matter what they did, they made each other, well, happy. They kissed often, and usually fell asleep spooning, Martin's chest pressed close to Danny's back.

About their sex life: it was great. Danny had no serious complaints. No complaints at all, really. He did wonder about one thing, but that wasn't complaining. Because he never mentioned it to Martin.

It was a small thing. No big deal. Didn't even bother him so much as present him with a mystery.

A Martin mystery. The best kind.

~~~

For the third time in half an hour, Danny considered taking off his jacket. Someone had turned up the thermostat in the office and turned off the ceiling fans, probably in attempt to make him sweat—as though the case hadn't already put his deodorant on double-duty. Missing person gone ninety hours and still so few leads. Coffee and adrenaline had kept him awake so far, and maybe that also accounted for his feeling hot.

Martin's footsteps neared his desk, and Danny (always attuned to Martin's proximity) turned around in his chair. Martin had already taken off his jacket and unbuttoned the collar of his pink, striped dress shirt. When he leaned down to touch Danny's shoulder, Danny thought it was in commiseration. But  Martin smiled. "Hey. Jack just called. He found her alive."

The impulse to kiss Martin right there in the bullpen, like it was New Year's Eve or V-Day in 1945, nearly overcame Danny. But all he did was say _thank God_ , stand up and grasp Martin's shoulder. Martin had a grin that said he knew exactly what Danny had wanted to do, and a funny expression in the set of his shoulders that spoke of relief Danny hadn't done it. Still, he looked happy.

As Martin relayed details from Jack's call, Danny interrupted with questions. At the same time, he wondered about kissing Martin in the office. Martin would have kept his eyes open for that.

~~~

When they got to Danny's place that night, they both wanted to shower more than eat, as if the water could wash away four days of searching and sweating and the smell of office coffee. Danny led the way into his bedroom in the dark, followed by Martin. Both remained quiet as they began to strip off suits that felt like second skins at this point, they had worn them so long. Their movements were slow, indicating the post-case crash had set in. 

Danny took off his tie and belt and unbuttoned his shirt, then turned around to watch Martin undress. Too dark, though, so he turned on the light in his bathroom and looked again. Martin stood next to the king-sized bed, eyes unfocused and hands working by habit to unbutton his cuffs. Danny _tsk_ ed and shook his head and walked over behind Martin to rest his chin on his shoulder.

"Need help?"

Wordlessly, Martin lifted his left hand and presented the troublesome cuff to Danny, who slid his arms around Martin's waist to reach it. Martin leaned back ever so slightly, and Danny moved on to all the other buttons on Martin's person. He pressed his face to Martin's neck, inhaling the unwashed scent of Martin's skin, and worked his hands down Martin's chest, one button at a time. When he reached his pants, Danny opened his mouth and began to lick Martin's neck, slowly so as to taste it. Martin tensed at the attention, and then tensed more as Danny palmed his waist, and his hips and his upper thighs.

When Danny's hand pressed upward over his groin, Martin gasped and rolled his head backward, against Danny's shoulder. "Ah, Danny…" His hips buckled, and he thrust against the pressure. Danny cupped his hand around the growing bulge in Martin's pants, loving the feel of Martin hardening for him. He squeezed gently and bit Martin's neck, which made Martin reach up and grasp a handful of Danny's hair. While Danny sucked and bit and massaged, Martin combed his fingers over every inch of scalp and hair he could reach.

Danny loved that. That and hearing Martin breathe unevenly. 

He risked breaking off his attention to Martin's neck to glance at the side of his face. Mouth slack and open, pulse shimmering under a sheen of perspiration, chin angled just so…. Danny saw why it was unreasonable to be—not annoyed. Curious. He had Martin right where they both wanted to be, nearing an edge not of completion but of instigation, on the verge of an intimate weekend together—and Martin had his eyes closed.

"What—what's the matter?" Martin hissed, and Danny realized his hand had stopped.

"Sorry, sorry, got distracted." He moved his hand back toward Martin's crotch (he really needed to get him out of those pants), but Martin stepped to the side.

"Distracted? Danny, if this is keeping you from your favorite TV show, don't let me get in the way."

Danny rolled his eyes and his face heavenward. Why did he have more trouble with that one little thing and not with Martin's bitchy side? "You know you're not in the way, Martin," he deadpanned. "My shows don't come on till tomorrow night."

Danny could tell they were getting back on track when Martin chuckled.

"Actually," Danny continued, stepping back into Martin's very personal space, "I was thinking about you doing that thing with the shampoo."

It took Martin a few seconds to venture a guess. "What thing? Wash your hair?"

"That's the one," Danny said, and Martin shook his head as if Danny was a crazy man. But Martin also said _come here_ and kissed Danny on the mouth, slowly, taking time to suck in his upper lip and stroke it over and over with his tongue. Danny let him take control and enjoyed the feeling of being devoured. He tried not to look to see if Martin's eyes were open or shut. 

~~~

This _thing_ had become a mania. Danny had noticed it from the start, when he had come over to Martin's place November before last to watch voting returns and had received the biggest election day shock of his life: a blowjob from Martin. Danny was gripping the plaid couch cushions on either side of him as Martin kneeled on the floor before him, his lips sliding up and down Danny's cock. Both of them were making noise, slurps and gasps and moans and grunts, but not loudly enough (yet) to drown out an argument between John McLaughlin and Pat Buchanan on how to interpret early exit poll data. Danny could hardly concentrate on keeping his pelvis from hitting Martin in the face, but he had a vague idea of putting the TV on mute. He even went so far as to grope around the couch for the remote control, though that quest ended when Martin did something impressive with his tongue and somehow took him deeper. Martin's head tilted up, and Danny looked down at him with nearly crossed eyes just before he came.

That night, it hardly mattered at all that Martin had his eyes closed.

And it hardly mattered at all in the days and weeks and months that followed. Danny and Martin had a great sex life. Their sex was creative and passionate and loving. Danny didn't doubt that. The loving part. He didn't doubt it, because Martin lavished him with love in quiet ways, with slow kisses and the most careful fucking Danny had ever received; with sandwiches and fresh coffee at work; with his arms wrapped tight around Danny at night; and with instant acceptance of all the things Danny did to express his own commitment. Danny didn't doubt at all.

Though he did wonder. Because of the eye thing.

~~~

They fell right asleep after the shower. Martin had indeed washed Danny's hair, and Danny had thanked him by putting his mouth on Martin's cock and sucking until his cheeks went hollow and Martin screamed his name. Neither of them had eaten recently, and they had worked more or less four days straight, so they dried off and fell into bed side by side, shoulders and arms touching, legs tangled.

The thing about working so long, though, was it messed up your system to the point where you could only sleep four or five hours at a time even when you could rightfully indulge for way longer. Which was why Danny found himself staring at the ceiling before dawn, listening to the chatter of birds outside his window. Beside him, Martin slept, a solid, even-breathing presence taking up a disproportionate amount of space on the bed. Danny stared a moment longer at the ceiling, then decided if he had to be awake, he might as well look at something more attractive.

Martin up-close fit the bill. Danny turned onto his side and moved nearer, not bothering to be quiet; Martin wouldn't wake up for anything now short of a phone call from work. When he slept on his back, with his limbs spread out like a Da Vinci sketch and his breathing rhythmic and deep, Martin could stay out for the better part of a day. Danny almost envied him the ability to sleep so thoroughly, except that it gave him the opportunity to watch. 

Freshly showered, Martin smelled clean. But under the covers, he also smelled musky, like the bed. His skin was warm where Danny rested his arm over him, as if Martin could purify himself from within, burning away all the stress of the job and his problems so he could wake up rejuvenated. Sounded silly, but Danny had seen Martin sleep off quite a few bad days, only to look younger and happier when he woke.

The biggest secret Martin kept at work was that his hair curled after it got wet. Gel and short haircuts helped him look the Serious FBI Agent, but at home, he couldn't hide from Danny. Danny fingered Martin's hair and felt thankful that Martin had never even tried to hide it from him. He didn't know what he would do if Martin ever hid from him.

~~~

Danny woke up again in the best kind of way: with Martin throwing a leg over his own and pulling him close.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey! I was sleeping there!"

"What, do you want to sleep all day?" Martin pulled him right up to his chest and blew in his ear. Then he nibbled on the edge of it. Danny found himself wriggling to get closer to Martin, and Martin tightened the hold of his leg around Danny's.

"Time?" Danny asked.

Martin paused. "About elev—"

Danny twisted in Martin's embrace and somehow got a knee on the far side of Martin's hip, allowing him to straddle his waist and lean on his shoulders as he brought his head down. But Martin's kiss surprised him.

"Son of a bitch. You brushed your teeth!"

Martin grinned up at him, minty breath reaching Danny from where he hovered inches away. Suddenly self-conscious, Danny licked his own teeth, and Martin rolled his eyes. "You are so sexy in the morning," he drawled.

"Don't I know it," Danny said. "Bastard." Figuring fair was fair, he leaned down and resumed the kiss. Martin did not seem to mind.

They kissed languidly for a while, Danny settling across Martin's hips and moving in slow circles that massaged both his own and Martin's cocks. Martin put his hands on Danny's hips and helped him set the pace. But when Danny felt himself reach half-hardness, he made the error of looking up at Martin's eyes.

Martin's closed eyes.

Okay, mania or no, this would not do. 

"Martin," he whispered. "Open your eyes."

Martin obeyed, blinking up at him and smiling in that crooked way he smiled whenever they were in media res. "Yes?"

"Now kiss me," Danny said, for perhaps the first time in his life and refusing to feel ridiculous. 

Not that that stopped Martin from looking at him like he was insane. "Isn't that what we were—" and Danny's expression must have become pretty intense, because he broke off and said, "Okay. Come here."

Danny did. As he opened his lips to Martin and invited his (now shy) tongue back inside, Danny watched Martin close his eyes.

No, this would not do at all.

So as not to break the mood, he eased his mouth away from Martin's, kissing and licking his way along the line of his jaw, eyes on Martin's eyes, which remained closed through Martin's sighs and gasps. To up the ante, Danny moved one hand to Martin's right nipple, teasing it with his palm. Martin moaned and arched upward, but did not open his eyes. So Danny traced over the skin of Martin's temple with his front teeth, ending with a nip.

"Ah, Danny…." Martin moaned. Okay. Danny captured Martin's nipple between middle and pointer fingers, brushed it with his thumb over and over. Martin responded by writhing beneath him and squeezing his eyes more tightly closed.

Enough was enough. Any reasonable person would understand what Danny did next, especially as it made Martin finally open his eyes.

"What the—Are you licking my eyelids?"

Danny reared back, looked at Martin fiercely and smacked his tongue once or twice to get rid of the sensation of eyelashes stuck to it. "So what if I am?"

Martin opened his mouth and closed it again. "Are we okay?"

" _We_ are fine," Danny huffed.

"No, somehow I think we're not," Martin said, pushing himself up to a sitting position. Danny started to climb off him, but Martin grabbed his arm and shoulder to keep him in place on Martin's thighs. "What's going on with you?"

Danny felt silly now, but he figured what the hell. He put up with some weird shit from Martin (like the McLaughlin Group, every Sunday, with the volume turned way up), so why shouldn't Martin do the same?

"Show me something, Fitz. Whatever you do, don't close your eyes. Okay?"

Martin had barely replied before Danny leaned forward and pressed their lips together. If he was surprised, he didn't show it. Simply wrapped his arms around Danny and took hold of the hair at the base of his neck. Danny watched Martin's eyes blink shut as they opened their mouths to each other, not surprised in the least. Without breaking off the kiss, he reached up with one hand and flicked the side of Martin's head.

"Hm?"

" _Eyes_ ," Danny murmured.

"Oh," Martin said, opening them. Danny made sure their gazes locked, blue to brown like never before, and Martin made an expression like he had discovered something new. They continued kissing, staring at each other the whole time. Danny wrapped one leg around Martin, and Martin held him tighter, their dicks trapped in the friction and heat between them. To Danny, seeing Martin see him like this, with his eyes, ears, mouth, nose and skin all at once, completely consumed by him, looking down into him with wide eyes a little scared but resolute—it was the most and the least he had ever wanted from Martin. 

The disquiet in him eased. It felt like the setting down of a constant burden. With his eyes pinned to Danny's, Martin seemed to notice it too. If anything, he looked more scared than before, but no less resolute. As if to emphasize what he had learned, Martin wormed his right hand in between them and captured their dicks, squeezing them against each other. Danny bucked and broke off the kiss, but not eye contact with Martin, whose gaze had turned darker. Martin licked his lips and grinned crookedly when Danny's tongue did the same thing.

Martin's hand taking him higher and higher, Danny stayed grounded, held in place by Martin's eyes, by his lashes and eyelids and the little puffy bags underneath, and the lines on the bridge of his nose as his brows converged, as Martin focused iris and pupil on him alone.

"Oh, God, Martin," Danny mumbled, hardly believing he could get off on something so simple. Something so minor. Martin didn't say a word, didn't stop looking at him. His pupils had dilated, and he was holding his breath. Danny forced his own right hand between them, put it over Martin's, and that was the end. Martin came with his eyes open, unfocused and wild. With their gaze cut off, Danny could no longer wait. He pumped himself and Martin twice, hand tight over Martin's still, and rode through what followed with perfect joy.

~~~

Danny and Martin had a great sex life, and Danny had a feeling it had just now—against all probability—improved. He still didn't know why Martin closed his eyes, though he suspected it was as much habit as intent. Habits could be changed with dedicated intent, though, and Danny believed he could provide the motivation. He opened his eyes to find Martin looking at him in undisguised wonder. Oh, yeah, could he provide it.

"We're pretty good together, aren't we," Martin said, making it a statement.

"We're the best," Danny said. He did not doubt they meant it. He didn't even wonder.

**End**


End file.
